


The Girl and the Queen

by Lizzy_Lizard



Category: Heartless - Marissa Meyer
Genre: F/M, Fixes plot holes, Hurt/Comfort, Two one shots basically, cannon complient
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26635837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzy_Lizard/pseuds/Lizzy_Lizard
Summary: Two stories taking place in the Heartless/Alice universe. You can read one or the other. Chapter 1: Alice speaks with Time on what happens to those who stumble into wonderland. Chapter 2: Cath’s heart is given back to her.
Relationships: Jest/Catherine Pinkerton (Heartless)
Kudos: 15





	1. Time and the Girl

**Author's Note:**

> I love the Alice books as well as Heartless, so this chapter was to make connections between the two stories. I also added a few of my personal headcannons about this world. I hope you enjoy!

The fire was glowing brightly, flickering off of Dinah’s fur. The cat had grown so very old, her fur had nearly all turned white. A twelve year old Alice sat stroking her, listening quietly to the tick-tocking of the grandfather clock across the room. She cast her eyes towards the looking glass, a vague memory of a dream she had once had crossing her mind. 

“Alice?” Her sister’s voice echoed through the hall, “Where are you? You had better not have gone in the garden, you don’t want to be all dirty when uncle Charles comes do you?”

“I’m in here with Dinah,” Alice responded, hoping that her sister wouldn’t notice the unladylike way she had shouted back her answer. “Tell me, how much longer it will be until he gets here?” Alice then said, smoothing down a tuft of fur on Dinah’s paw that she had licked upwards. 

“Quite soon I’m sure,” came the reply, though it was of little use to Alice, who had never much liked the word soon. She looked up at the grandfather clock, it’s features seemed to form a face the closer she looked at it, a mouth seemed to appear out of thin air, not unlike one she had seen so very very long ago…

Two yellow eyes opened and Alice was sure of it. “Why you? You’re that cat! That cat from my dream!” She whispered excitedly pointing up from where she stood at the face of the clock, or rather the cat that floated in front of the clock.

Cheshire’s smile grew impossibly wider, “Maybe I am, or maybe I am not.”

“Well I do hope you are,” Alice said, “Then again, how can I truly be sure if I’m not just dreaming you again.”

Cheshire's head rolled upside down, “Perhaps your whole life has been a dream, and you’ll wake up one day to find that everything is as it is and nothing is as it isn’t.” 

Alice didn’t like this notion at all, so she quickly responded with her own remark, “I do suppose you could be right… but I am sure that I am myself, all that silly nonsense is behind me now, I’m a lady, and you’re just a dream.”

The crescent moon smile seemed to falter just the tiniest bit, “But of course I shouldn’t like to be a character in someone else’s dream, otherwise, I wouldn’t really be me at all, but just another version of you.”

Again Alice felt compelled to say something in defiance of this statement, “Well that can’t be true, those dreams from when I was little…” she paused to find the right words “Well I mean they weren’t entirely, well I mean some of the people I met-”

The large cat rolled back upwards and cut off whatever it was she was about to say, “I know exactly who you speak of, you speak of the dearest Queen of Hearts is that right? You don’t want her to be a part of you.”

“Well, this is all a silly argument anyway,” Alice said, “And she is NOT a part of me, she is just a dream. As are you.”

“Never mind that then,” said the Cheshire Cat, clearly wanting to change the subject, “I have a rumor I would be glad to discuss instead.” 

Alice, being rather curious said, “What might that rumor be?” Her voice rising ever so slightly.

“Follow me, and I’ll tell you all about it,” replied the cat, saying every word slowly and sharply. The small door of the grandfather clock opened, revealing a long white hallway, where the walls were decorated with gears that turned each other back and forth.

Alice was slightly disappointed, “I apologize, but I can’t follow you,” she said, my uncle is coming very soon and I have to-“

“Oh don’t worry about Time,” replied the cat, “He has given you plenty of himself.” A long striped tail appeared gesturing to the clock, where the word ‘soon’ appeared between the numbers 4 and 5. Alice watched as the hour hand slowly wound back, until is was far enough away from soon that she knew she would have much time to spare, and without a second thought she squeezed through the door of the clock.

The hall of gears greeted her on the other side of the door, and Alice was surprised to find that when she looked back at the door she had come from it had completely disappeared from view. “Quite curious,” she said, more to herself than the cat, “I do hope I will be able to find another way back.”

The cat flew quite a bit too close to her face. “I thought that you were dreaming?” He said in a mocking tone.

Alice scoffed, “I am, of course, it’s just, hard to remember at times is all.”

“And yet, I remember you saying such a thing merely a minute ago,” came the reply, “Funny that you already forgot.”

They walked a little further down the hall and Alice noticed little faces on the gears twisting upside down and back up again over and over. I shouldn’t like to be one of them, Alice thought to herself, Always getting turned upside down and rightside up and then back down again. Not to mention they’re crammed so close to their neighbors. 

It was as if the cat had read her mind, for he soon said, “Yes those poor little things, always twisting and turning. Miserable to look at if you ask me.”

Alice nodded her head in agreement and continued to stroll down the hall. “So, where might we be going?” Alice asked, trying very hard not to forget that this wasn’t real and she had no reason to get so invested.

“Time himself would like to speak with you,” was Cheshire’s droll reply. “Something about clearing it up for the ones that found their way in. Sounds like stuff and nonsense to me but what do I know, he is Time after all.”

Alice made the decision not to look further into Time’s reason for talking with her. “I do believe you promised me a rumor,” she said instead, and turned ever so slightly towards that cat, who was currently nothing but a floating pair of ears.

The full cat appeared, “But of course, I do love a good, juicy rumor don’t you?” Alice nodded again and the cat continued, “Well, don’t repeat it but I heard a few days ago, that the people plan to rebel against our queen.”

Alice’s eyes widened, and her hand reached up to cover her mouth, “Is that true?” She asked excitedly. She had read of rebellions in her lessons and they had seemed rather exciting, although the more she thought about it, the more it seemed they might cause more violence than there was before, she could very well remember the way the king had pardoned all of the sentenced croquet guests. “Why exactly are they rebelling? I thought that they didn’t really behead anyone, and I’m sure the queen is an annoyance but if everyone gets pardoned anyway why risk the bloodshed of a rebellion?”

The Cheshire Cat swirled along behind her, “Oh there have been beheadings, plenty of them, although the king does pardon some if he can. But the rebellion is just gossip anyhow.” He circled back in front of her, starting to lick one paw, “It’s purrrfectly fine with me either way. As you can see, I’m not at risk,” he said as all but his head disappeared, and for a moment he pretended to fall to the ground before gently floating back up.

Just then they came to a door at the end of the hallway. It was gigantic, and made Alice wonder if she might need one of those special cakes in order to fit in with whoever would use such a large door. It was painted a dark navy blue and sat slightly crooked on its hinges. “Well,” said the cat, “I do believe it is Time for us to part ways.” He laughed at his own joke as he slowly disappeared. Before Alice could take another step though, his smile materialized and said in almost a whisper, “goodbye… Alice.”

Behind the door was an enormous room covered in shining red and gold gears similar to the ones outside. They provided much chatter as pipes hissed out steam to the tunes of various nursery rhymes. A man sat still in the middle of it all. He had a dark lean face that was completely expressionless. 

How odd, Alice thought to herself. It seems he could be made of stone. Perhaps he is a statue? I wouldn’t suspect Time to be so still.

But, as if to prove her wrong, Time blinked. It was a very slow blink, but the most peculiar thing about it all was that Alice heard a distinct clicking sound as it happened, and then a snap when his eyelids finally went back into place. 

“Excuse me sir,” Alice said as she slowly stepped closer to him. “I was told that you wanted to speak with me, however it was an unreliable cat that gave me that information so, if you wish for me to go I wouldn’t mind.” Alice didn’t understand how he managed to intimidate her more than any of the queens ever had, but something about his quiet inexpressive face sent a shiver down her spine.

His mouth opened and again there was a slow clicking sound before it clicked into place. When he spoke, it didn’t close again, but merely stayed where it was, and the sound seemed to be coming from around her rather than from that wide, still mouth. “Yes I did indeed intend to speak with you, you see there have been several others who have stumbled into our world, and I would like to save as many as I can.”

Alice stepped back a bit, her mind struggling to comprehend exactly what he was saying. Perhaps she had heard him wrong, the chattering of the gears and hissing of the pipes could have overpowered the voice of this man. But she had to contradict her own thoughts, of course you heard him right, his voice was louder than any of these other noises. So again she tried to puzzle out what he had said. Not only had he implied that she wasn’t the only one to stumble into this wonderland, but he had also implied that it had taken some toll on the others who came. 

“You are perplexed,” Time said again, his mouth still not shutting, “You likely believe it to be a dream, I assure you it is not. However, that is no reason to be frightened.”

Alice blinked, “Well, I can’t tell if what you’re telling me is true or if I’m just making this all up, so there’s no way to convince me that what you’re telling me is correct.” She huffed, and for a second she nearly forgot that she had ever been scared of Time.

She remembered when he spoke again. “Insolent girl!” This time the sound of his echoing voice was so loud Alice wondered if everyone around the whole world could hear it, “What I’m telling you is true, and it is important. If you refuse to listen it is your loss, not mine.”

Alice backed up again, quite afraid this time. Though it would still be hard for her to believe that this man wasn’t a figment of her imagination, but was in fact Time himself, she made a decision to listen to what he had to say, whether it was true or not. She wouldn’t like to see where the dream went if she again contradicted him. 

As she was thinking his body started to move. First his mouth shut, then his legs started to bend upwards. Again there was a slow, steady clicking as he stood, though the clicking was much louder and nearly drowned out the other sounds echoing through the room. Finally when he was up, he made his way to the other side of the room, where a long burgundy curtain hung shut. Alice followed him, trying very hard to match his slow pace so as to not offend him. After what seemed like an eternity, he made it to the curtain and pulled a leaver, which quickly opened the curtain. Behind it was an enormous glass window from which Alice could see an expansive hedge maze leading out into the horizon.

“Time sir?” Alice asked, “Were there really others that came here, people like me?” She didn’t expect the question to be so genuine, but it was. If, by some chance, this wasn’t a dream, she needed to know that she wasn’t the only child that had wandered too far from her own world. “Have other children come?”

Time’s mouth clicked open, “No, you are the only child that has found her way to our kingdoms, but others have come, adults.” 

Another question left Alice’s lips, “And I heard that you wanted to save us, pray, what was the meaning of that? What do we have to lose?”

His head, which had before stayed rigid, looking out the window with his empty eyes, turned, moving the same way as his other joints. When the clicking stopped he said, “Well, the cat might have told you, we’re all mad here. Including anyone who stumbles in. You ask what do you have to lose? Your mind.”

Shock covered Alice’s features, “How dare you call me mad! I’ll have you know that I am quite the lady, and no one, not even you have the right to call an established lady like me mad!”

Time did not acknowledge her outburst but instead continued speaking. “There was a man, Edgar. He was the first to come here in his sleep, spent his time in chess watching people die at the hands of an executioner, and left raving mad.”

“But what happened to him after that?” Alice asked.

“Nevermind what happened to him, I don’t want the same fate to befall you. If you lost your mind, who knows what would become of you?” His statement would have been less harsh had he given a sympathetic smile, or placed a hand on her shoulder, but he didn’t. Instead he stood still, his eyes seeming to hold everything, yet see nothing.

Alice looked away, quite unsettled by his appearance. “Were they always mad down there?” She asked, pointing to the hedge maze below.

Time’s head turned back to face the window. “Most of them.” Came his reply, cold and hardened, “Although, had I done things differently in the past, perhaps I could have helped the current situation in Hearts, the first kingdom you visited.” 

“What do you mean?” Alice asked, trying to forget about the conversation they had previously had. 

“I should have erased some occurrences from the mind of a certain monarch before she made any rash decisions.” Time said, and Alice wondered if he was being purposefully vague.

“Well what does that mean?” Alice tried to ask.

“Enough questioning me girl!” His voice rose again. Suddenly his body zipped around quickly to face her, something Alice thought wasn’t possible for him. “It is now that I will remove your memory of this place, and the places on either side of that hedge.” He pulled a pocket watch out of his hand and began to turn one of the hands back. 

Alice’s head spun suddenly and it seemed that the hissing pipes emitted so much more steam than they had before. Flashes of her time in wonderland came into her vision. The tea party and the Queen of Hearts, the Tweedles and the White Knight, all of them seemed to come and promptly go. “Alice!” Someone was calling her name “Alice? Oh she’s asleep! There she is!”

Her eyes opened to see the face of her uncle Charles. She greeted him happily and they made their way to the dining room. “Now Alice, did you have any good dreams when you dozed off in the other room?” He asked.

Alice looked back up at him, a slightly puzzled expression on her face, “You know, I can’t recall.”


	2. The Queen and the Joker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clear up any confusion, this takes place fifteen years after Heartless and five years after Alice in Wonderland.

The Queen of Hearts arose from her throne to the sounds of shouts and screams. Her expression was extremely calm as she walked to the doors at the end of the hall, save for a slight twitch in her left eye. From the rafters of the ceiling, a large raven flew down landing on her shoulder, his claws making small wounds in her skin. She said nothing to the bird but quietly opened the doors, prepared for the bedlam that awaited her behind them. 

A crowd of people and animals stood to face her, sporting long sticks and various gardening tools. They looked about ready to burn her at the stake but The Queen’s expression hardly changed. “Good morning subjects,” she said, her eyes stiffening into a glare. “I see your little revolution has lasted more than a week now. Congratulations.” Another shout reverberated through the hall, though she had no need to make out the words, it was clear what the crowd was upset about. “I’ve brought Raven here to glean the heads of whomever wishes to stay.” Her mouth twitched into a practiced smile, “I was thinking we could start a pile over there.” She pointed at a stone square in the palace garden.

Most of the subjects ran off, and she didn’t have the motivation to send Raven after them. Instead she let him assume his human form as she shut the doors, letting her executioner do his work. Another morning in hearts.

And the morning fell away into afternoon so quickly. She had lunch with her husband, a dress fitting, and several public executions, paying little attention to the angry mob that seemed to follow her around, simply calling for their heads and letting Raven take care of the rest. Every night she made tarts in the kitchen, though it gave her no enjoyment like the vague memories she had of before her marriage, it was routine and she followed it. Then night came. She kissed the heads of her suit of ten children, and sat by the fire, staring at it. Watching the way it consumed and left nothing but ashes in its wake was much more fascinating than any book or needlework. 

It wasn’t a pleasant life, or a happy life, more of a thick grayness that encircled her every move. There was a time her temper had flared up at any annoyance, but it had been five years since then, and now it seemed that the pattern of noticing something that wasn’t to her liking and sentencing someone to death had no real emotion in it anymore. Every hour came and went like any other, and at least, The Queen thought, that was better than the hot anger she used to feel. 

Then, after a few more days of nothing, she was sitting in the garden, smoothing out a wrinkle on her dress and listening to the faint sound of Raven’s ax coming down onto the neck of one of her previous guards, when a noise pierced her ears. A new noise, or perhaps, a very old one that she hadn’t heard for fifteen years. It was a hollow coo of an owl, the rustling of a raccoon in the bushes and the jumping of a fox on the cobblestone pavement. 

“Monarch!” she heard from behind her, the dreamlike voice tickling the back of her neck. “We’ve come to give you something.”

The Queen hadn’t expected to hear that voice ever again, and the sound alone sent a shiver down her spine, but she made up her mind to collect herself. She settled her nerves quickly and turned around to face them. After all, these were just little girls, and she was the Queen of Hearts. “I thought you only took things?” She was pleased with the regalness in her voice. The last time they had spoken she was a broken young girl, now she was an immovable stone. One they could never get past. 

“Yes, we take things you don’t need!” Said another girl, stepping out from the hedge, thorns pricking her arms and leaving small splatters of blood on her white dress. 

“But I’m afraid, you need this back,” said the third giggling, and creeping up from behind the Queen “At least you will where you’re going!”

The girls laughed in unison and one pulled out a small object wrapped in white lace. “I do believe we owe you this,” one said.

They placed the white lace bundle into her lap and with a laugh exited over the garden walls and out of sight. The Queen did not want to think about what could be in the layers of fabric, but found her hands unwrapping it until they felt a warm object, almost like skin. And it was beating. Slowly, almost stopping, but beating. She dared not look down, but before she could do anything, the object floated out of her grasp, and collided heavily with her chest, sending her out of her chair and into the soil among the hedges. 

For a moment she breathed in and out slowly, her fingers tracing her chest where a long scar had once been but now had vanished. A few red rose petals fell onto her face, then Catherine screamed a guttural, horrified scream that tore through the kingdom, making the birds stop singing, and the plants stop growing.

***

Ripping, shredding, clawing, scratching, severing. She would do anything to get it out again. Shame was a scorching hot fire that burned away at her soul and left nothing in return. Her first instinct was to run. She would go anywhere, the forest, maybe even Chess. She needed to get away. She knew she was desperate enough.

She stopped to consider if there was anyone she should say something to before leaving. Her children perhaps, but she wasn’t dumb, she knew that they couldn’t care less if she stayed or left. Raven she knew would follow her, so there was no need to speak with him. Catherine didn’t have the willpower to go speak to anyone anyway. All she wanted to do was run, so that she did. Stumbling over her crinoline, smashing her head on the pavement and returning to her feet over and over again. She had attracted a crowd, but that was the least of her concerns. What she needed to do was get away. For the first time in fifteen years, she was terrified. Terrified straight down to the marrow of her bones and back out to every fingertip, every hair on her head. Memories of everything she had inflicted on her kingdom came flashing back, and there was no way she could face them. She had to leave.

Eventually Catherine made it to a clearing in the woods where her feet could no longer carry her. She collapsed to the ground only just noticing how short of breath she was, and how tight her corset had been laced. A suppressed memory of an impossible night at the ball bubbled back to the surface and suddenly a great pain came to her mind. Lemons, and corset laces, macarons and the ringing of bells. Hat shops and Jabberwocks, and eventually, the swinging of an ax. The first time she had ever seen someone beheaded. She almost laughed thinking of her shock, of the blood across the dirt. Had she really seen hundreds now? Hundreds of people that had gone through the same pain that she had once had to bear. Hundreds. 

An angry sob flew up from her throat. A guilty empathy filled her mind. Had she really done this? Did she really allow it to go this far. The tears came, and came, and never ceased. She turned onto her side, curling up beneath her dress. Wildflowers gathered around her, blowing onto her face as the day turned to night, so slowly and yet so soon. 

It had taken hours before Catherine’s cries had turned into a restless sleep. One she was woken up from by a mad chuckle. “I do believe the palace is that way my lady!” A gloved hand shook Catherine awake. “Or was it that way?” The hand pointed in the opposite direction and she could see that one of the fingers of the glove was missing entirely. 

“Hatta?” She whispered, as her eyes opened. 

“Oh no no no! I’m fairly certain it was that way!” He enthusiastically pointed to the tops of a few of the trees.

Catherine sighed sadly, a few tears slipping from her eyes. His madness was partly her fault as well. If she would have done things differently… But then MarryAnn would have died. She smiled sadly to herself. MarryAnn had died anyway five years ago, around the time that strange little girl had come wandering into Hearts. It was a sentence like any other. Catherine wondered if her old friend had been surprised.

She looked back at Hatta, and for a moment his eyes met hers and a certain clarity came back to them, for just a moment. Cath couldn’t even tell that his clothes were dirty and torn, that a teabag hung out of his breast pocket, or that his once well groomed hair was disheveled beneath his hat. “Why are you here Hatta?” she asked.

“Why why why why why, well that is a curious question…”

“Hatta?” Her voice broke a bit as she noticed the mob coming up from behind him. 

He laughed his mad laugh again and ran off into the mob, clearly unsure of why the crowd had gathered. A man in the front carried an ax. It was Jack, she noticed, and he held it like it was something divine. A rotten smile crossed his features. “Would you believe I once cared for you, your majesty.” He said it like it was a curse. 

Catherine remembered his sentence vaguely, and the way the mysterious little girl had distracted the court so Jack could weasel his way out of execution. It seemed he would rather kill something than sit around waiting.

They encircled her, spitting and yelling and hissing louder than she had ever heard before. Then there was silence, and they seemed to wait. Wait for her to fight back, or at least to say something. She spotted Raven behind them, ax ready. She shook her head at him and looked up at the mob, trying to see the eyes of every person. They made her so unbelievably sad. Like a weight tied to her feet, pulling her further and further into the depths of the sea. She knelt in front of them and bent her head forward. “Do it Jack.”

There was a swooping noise, the caw of a raven, the final flash of regret, and then darkness. 

***

Catherine awoke in the crossroads, her back to the floor and her eyes directed at the checkered ceiling. She could hear the soft sound of a breeze blowing from one of the doors, but didn’t have the strength to get up and see which one. Instead she laid there for a few minutes, closing her eyes and forcing her mind to go blank. The breeze grew stronger, turning into a wind that buffeted against her skin. She realized that she was wearing a long black dress, no petticoats or crinoline underneath, and simply cut. One of her hands felt over the fabric, eventually finding its way up to her chest, where her scar had disappeared, then up to her neck, where a new one had formed. It circled around the circumference of her neck like a choker, and Catherine knew exactly where it had come from. 

It felt like hours had passed before she finally got to her feet. Her knees wobbled and gave way several times, but eventually she managed to walk to an open door at the end of the hall. Beyond, she saw Hearts but, different. It wasn’t even Hearts as it had been before she took the throne. This Hearts was, nearly perfect. The buildings stood tall, the cobblestones on the road weren’t stained with blood. The only thing that Catherine could see was wrong was the people that had stopped their everyday activities to watch her. The most unsettling of all though, was that many of them had scars identical to her own.

She would have backed up into the crossroads again, but it felt like a wind pushed her out and as soon as she took a step away from the door, the crossroads disappeared behind her and she stood in the square looking around for some kind face that would tell her she was welcome, but there was no one. Her breaths grew short and a faint cry escaped her mouth. Franticness took over her every move, and quickly she pulled up her long skirt and ran towards the forest for the second time. Not even death could rid her of her shame.

She crossed the town, looking to the ground instead of into the eyes of people who might shun her. Buildings passed over her vision, voices seemed to call all around her. She heard whispers and laughter, but she also heard curses and shouts. Once she had been spat upon. In her mind she saw the chaos she had brought. It was all she could do to say nothing, to continue on until she was alone. She continued onward as the cobblestones turned to dirt. The forest was in view, voices began to silence, she was almost there and then…

“Cath.” 

She froze in place, her head spinning, and her lips quivering. No, it couldn’t be him. He was gone. She took in a deep breath and took another step, though it was much more forced than the last ones. 

“Catherine.” It was his voice behind her, the same as it had been so many years ago. But there was an unrivaled grief in it, a pain that told Cath everything she needed to know. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her words close to not making any sound at all. “I-” She couldn’t think of anything else she could possibly say that would justify anything she had done. His death had taken part in her motivation but after her heart was gone, what excuse did she have. It had ceased to be about him as soon as the three girls ran from the palace. She wanted to run again, though this time it was a harder choice. She turned around to look at him one last time, to make sure her mind hadn’t played tricks on her after all. 

And it hadn’t. Jest stood in front of her as if he had been with her all along. His bright yellow eyes were reddened, his shoulders drooping, but he was there, and Cath knew that she would never be able to turn away, her heart was still his, even after all those years apart. She fell to her knees, sobs shaking her body yet again. She buried her head in her hands, knowing that he was looking down at her, knowing that she had disappointed him.

“Oh, Catherine.” His voice didn’t sound as disappointed as she had expected it to. In fact, it sounded sorry. Suddenly arms circled around her, pulling her to his chest. Another sob escaped. Was he forgiving her? For all it? 

“I’m sorry,” she said again, it seemed to be the only words she could think to say. He gave no response, but his hand moved up to her hair, and stroked it gently. 

When it seemed all of her tears were spent she finally looked into his eyes, and there was forgiveness there. How could he forgive her for all of this? It was… impossible. 

“Jest…” she said quietly, reaching out to cup his cheek with her hand. “I’m-”

“Don’t apologize to me Cath,” he interrupted. “I’m not the one you wronged.” He sighed and brought her in closer, whispering in her ear, “But I know many people who do deserve anything you can give them. I can help you, but first, I just want to be with you awhile. Is that alright Cath?”

Tears fell from her eyes, “Yes.”

***

He had led her to a small creek in the woods, far away from noise and distraction. When Cath sat down, he sat beside her wrapping an arm around her shoulder and leaning his head against hers. “Did Raven do it?” was his first question.

“What?” Cath asked in return. 

“Your scar,” Jest said. His fingers traced around her neck and it made Cath shiver. “You were beheaded like me, and like... “ He cut off, unwilling to remind her of what she had done. 

“No, it wasn’t Raven, just subjec-” she cut off and reconsidered her words, “Just people. People who were tired of it all.” She looked down at the creek, “I don’t blame them.”

They were quiet for a while unsure of what to say next. Only the calm sound of the creek kept the atmosphere from being completely silent. Catherine wished that it felt wrong, wished that she could let herself leave and bid Jest farewell. It was torture to watch the way his brow furrowed when he looked at her, the way he heald tight to her shoulder. She knew that she didn’t deserve his forgiveness. 

“Why don’t you shun me Jest?” she finally asked. “Give me bitterness or scorn, but don’t give me this. I don’t deserve it.”

He laughed a humorless laugh, “Maybe you don’t.” He stayed silent for a while after that and Cath could feel the tenseness in his fingers. “But I gave you my heart, and a heart once given can never be taken back.”

“It can!” Cath protested, needing him to understand, she couldn’t have him here, it would hurt her too much, “It can be given back! The sisters gave mine back to me before I came here!”

Jest responded quickly, and with more agitation in his voice than before, “The sisters are an exception. They can’t keep something you need, and you needed your heart to come here. Without it you’d cease to exist.” He looked away for a second, “I’ll tell you what you need to do.”

“What?” Cath asked

“You worry that you aren’t worthy of my forgiveness, but that just means that you know you need to make it right.”

Cath quickly got to her feet, “How do I make all of this right? How do I…” she paused, thinking of the people she had sentenced. It seemed like there had been an infinite number, though she knew the king had pardoned some. “You mean, that I have to go to each person, and apologize?” 

“That is exactly what I mean,” Jest said, “I know it will be challenging, I doubt that I would be able to do it in your place but, it’s your only hope of forgiveness from them.” 

Every person. Everyone she had taken the lives of. Could she really do it? She remembered the way they had spat at her, the way they had yelled words of hatred. Could she ever really be forgiven? “They would never forgive me,” she whispered, it would be impossible.”

Jest got to his feet, taking both her hands in his and whispered, “Impossible is my specialty.”  
Cath laughed, and it felt odd in her throat. The phrase had been gone for so long, dead in the back of her memory with the person who had coined it. Hearing it now was as renewing as drinking a cup full of treacle. “I’ll do it!” she shouted, and her arms circled around his shoulders. “If you’ll be with me, I’ll do it.”

“And I will be with you,” he responded, “I’ll take you to MarryAnn too, and you can have your bakery here, no one is stopping you! I may not have gotten a life with you, but we can start over now.”

Cath beamed, her eyes watering. It didn’t matter if she had her bakery, or if she was forgiven by every person she had wronged. He was here! Jest, who she had lost so soon. She had gotten the chance to see him again. “I love you Jest.”

A genuine smile crossed his features, making Cath’s renewed heart beat faster and faster. She could almost feel the break in it mending, heat stitching it back together. She kissed his lips, her arms wrapping tighter around him. It would be better. She would have happiness. She had spent half her life in misery, planning a bakery that never opened, nurturing a friendship that ended with anger and bitterness, loving a man who was martyred before her eyes. The other half of her life became an endless cycle of violence and nothingness. No joy, no sadness, only blood and for a while ungovernable passion, not the kind of passion she and Jest had shared, but a passion for pain. Her life was over now, no more emptiness. It was a new day in hearts, and she was finally happy to greet it.


End file.
